


Hearthstone

by Nanineye



Category: Stormlight Archive - Brandon Sanderson
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-20
Updated: 2019-08-20
Packaged: 2020-09-07 21:16:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,052
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20316151
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nanineye/pseuds/Nanineye
Summary: Set months after the end of Oathbringer. Kaladin comes back to Hearthstone with good news, and gets a happy ending.





	Hearthstone

**Author's Note:**

> I do know that this is extremely unlikely to ever happen: Brandon Sanderson is too good an author to let Kaladin go this easily. But hey - one can dream.

The horizon darkened, thick clouds rushing towards them.

“There is your highstorm, dear,” Hesina distractedly mumbled.

Her husband looked up from making bandages. He could not even spare the time before a highstorm, and had recently been forced multiple times to rush to the safety of Roshone’s mansion. This time, though, he took care of his task first, carefully putting away the strips of cloth he had been disinfecting while Hesina went to grab their son sleeping in the next room. They were in no hurry – the village’s warning bell had not even rung yet – but there were fewer safe houses now that the Everstorm blew, and neither wanted to risk getting stuck in the crowd.

They made their way in the streets towards their Brightlord’s mansion, trying their best to ignore the worried faces around them. The Everstorm, the fall of Kholinar, this terrible war, all of that weighed terribly on the village. They did not know how their troops were faring against the parshman army, as spanreeds had stopped working for some reason, and they could potentially be attacked at any time. Nobody even dared to venture outside the village, for some speculated that the neighbouring towns could already have fallen. Lirin did not believe it, because the enemy would not let alone a small pocket of humans living among them, and would attack them swiftly. However, he himself did not go to prove himself right.

The faintest light caught his eye, and he found himself stopping to stare into the approaching highstorm. Was that… a reflection? He knew he could never have picked up anything from this distance, especially something in the middle of the tormented winds, but felt something deep inside him. This… There was something. His hunches were seldom wrong, and he had learned to follow them, as they more often than not saved lives. Hope sunk its fangs into his heart, and, for once, he did not try to push it back. Perhaps… Wasn’t his son a Knight Radiant? He might have survived the battle in Kholinar. He might have…

His wife pushed him forwards, and he resumed walking. He remained silent.

“Are we there yet?”

“Shut up, Lyn.”

She smiled.

The wind’s howl had finally become a soft whimper, and Laral opened up the windows, displaying a gray sky and the slow rain of the end of a highstorm. Taking it as a signal, the rest of Hearthstone started to leave the mansion, trickling away. Roshone was not anywhere to be seen – but again, he seldom was. Lirin picked up his little Oroden, who flapped about in his arms. Holding his son close, he felt his mood lighten a bit. He was scared and tired and unsure about anything, they all were. But he had his family, and he had the village, and they had him. It was painful and exhausting, but easy.

The sudden commotion outside pulled him out of his melancholic mood. Without a word, he put Oroden back on his feet, pushed him towards his mother, and ran outside. Had someone been caught in the highstorm? Impossible! Laral counted everyone in the mansion at the start of the highstorm, and the entire village had been in the house, safe!

“What is going on? Is anyone hurt?” he yelled while mentally checking where his equipment was. He had left the new bandages at home, but he could have someone fetch it in a few minutes, and the disinfectant was…

The whole village was not staring downwards at the remains of an unlucky traveler caught in the storm, but upwards, towards the top of the mansion. They looked _happy_. Not only happy, but ecstatic even, as if all their troubles had just been lifted from their shoulders, replaced by hope and bliss.

“Radiant! Radiant!” cried one of the farmers.

Lirin turned to face the building. They were on its roof, three of them, in smart blue uniforms with black and gold cloaks. An aging soldier, sporting graying hair and a frown. A young woman, a black glove on her safehand. And Kaladin, smiling at him, in an officer’s coat.

Kaladin flopped down at the dinner table, with exhausted limbs but twinkling eyes.

“You really are back,” Hesina marvelled. “I can barely believe it!”

His smile lit up the whole room, and Lirin could almost taste the happiness in the air.

“How long will you stay?” he asked, sitting across from him.

“Er, not that long, unfortunately. Like I said before, my main purpose is to go to the neighboring singer villages, and to try and relocate them. We will set up camp here, but will most likely spend all of our time with them.”

“Isn’t that dangerous?”

“Not really. The most dangerous ones are the Fused, because they are angry and they want to fight. I can take them down easily enough, even if they can just… resurrect. It does get annoying. But the vast majority of singers are just ordinary folks… I just need to get their trust, and explain to them what I plan to do and why. They are very comprehensive, really.”

Lirin looked into his son’s calm eyes, and saw his kindness, his desperate willingness to help others, and understood immediately how these aliens could trust him so readily. There was no hate, no rage, no violence. This was not a warrior: this was a peacekeeper. A real Knight Radiant.

The old surgeon rose, and went to embrace him. His son, returned to him, his soul untainted by the cruelty of war.

“I am so proud of you,” he whispered. “You… You have become a real surgeon, Kaladin. You wonderful man!”

Hesina joined the hug, and all three of them pretended not to see the tears welling in each other’s eyes.

Up a flight of stairs, Oroden was peacefully sleeping, unaware that he was to be one of the first children in thousands of years to never know anything else than peace with the weird men with marbled skin. Unaware that, decades from now, he would be the one to lead humanity towards other landscapes, finally allowing the Fused some peace and rest. For now, he slept on, not hearing the laughs of the villagers outside, not seeing the smiles of his family. He would have decades to enjoy it.


End file.
